Rachel reluctantly agrees to buy a $2,000 watch for their boss after her colleague Emily promises to split the cost. But when Emily refuses to pay her share, Rachel is left struggling with the unexpected financial burden. Determined to teach Emily a lesson, Rachel devises a clever plan to expose her deceit. But will she succeed in bringing Emily’s dishonesty to light?
“That’s a lot of money, Emily,” I sighed, stirring my coffee slowly.
A person stirring coffee | Source: Pexels
“Oh, come on, Rachel,” she said, sitting across from me. “Think about it! A $1,600 watch for Mr. Johnson’s birthday would show our dedication. Plus, I’m sure he’ll love the customized engraving. Oh, and with that, the total would be $2,000.”
I took a sip of my coffee, trying to buy some time. “It’s just… that’s a huge expense. Are you sure about this?” I asked.
A woman sipping coffee | Source: Pexels
“Absolutely!” she replied, nodding eagerly. “Trust me, Rachel. It will be perfect. And don’t worry about the cost. We’ll split it, and I promise to pay my half as soon as possible.”
I felt a knot forming in my stomach. I liked Emily, despite her reputation for sucking up to management. She’s always the one staying late, bringing coffee, and organizing events. But this whole watch idea seemed too much, even for her.
A man wearing a watch | Source: Unsplash
“Emily, I don’t know. I have bills to pay, and $2,000 is a lot for me right now,” I said, hoping she’d understand.
“Rachel, this is an investment in our future here,” she insisted, trying to convince me. “Imagine the impression we’ll make! Mr. Johnson will remember this forever, and it could really boost our standing in the company.”
A smiling woman chatting with her colleague | Source: Pexels
I sighed again. Emily always had a way of making things sound so simple and beneficial.
“Alright,” I said reluctantly, finally giving in. “Let’s get the watch. But please don’t forget what you’ve promised.”
“Of course, Rachel,” she said. “He’ll love the gift!”
A man in a suit with his arms folded | Source: Pexels
Soon, Mr. Johnson’s birthday arrived.
Emily had everything meticulously planned.
She walked into his office first, and I followed, holding my breath.
A man holding a pen and pointing at a monitor | Source: Pexels
“Mr. Johnson!” she exclaimed, standing beside his desk. “We have a special surprise for you!”
Mr. Johnson looked up from his paperwork, clearly curious.
Emily handed him the elegantly wrapped box, her eyes shining with pride. “This was our idea,” she said, “but I really pushed for it because I knew it was perfect for you.”
A person holding a gift in their hands | Source: Unsplash
I stood there, smiling awkwardly. Emily opened the box to reveal the watch, and Mr. Johnson’s eyes widened in surprise.
“This is incredible. You really didn’t need to!” he said, examining the watch. “Thank you so much. This is really thoughtful.”
A watch on a man’s wrist | Source: Unsplash
Emily beamed, soaking in his praise. I forced a smile, feeling a pang of regret. I had hoped this gift would be a gesture of teamwork, but it quickly became Emily’s solo performance.
She kept talking about how she had put extra effort into getting the gift for him, which made me realize I had spent a thousand dollars for nothing more than a front-row seat to Emily’s self-promotion.
A young woman talking to an older man | Source: Midjourney
“This is wonderful, Emily. Thank you again,” Mr. Johnson said.
Emily turned to me with a triumphant grin. “See, Rachel? I told you he’d love it.”
I managed a weak smile. “Yeah, he really does,” I said.
A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney
A week passed, but I didn’t hear anything from Emily about her share.
One day, I found her in the break room, chatting away with another colleague. I waited until she was alone before approaching her.
“Hey, Emily,” I started calmly. “I… I just wanted to remind you about your share of the cost of Mr. Johnson’s watch. I have some expenses, and I really need that money right now.”
Two women chatting at workplace | Source: Freepik
Emily looked up at me with a condescending smile. “Oh, sweetie, I thought you were just helping out. I never intended to pay. Besides, you earn more than I do, don’t you? Consider it a charitable act.”
“WHAT?” I stared at her, stunned. “What do you mean? You… weren’t you supposed to pay your share?”
A smiling woman talking to her co-worker | Source: Freepik
“Look, life isn’t fair, Rachel,” she shrugged. “You wanted to make a good impression, and we did. Didn’t you see how happy Mr. Johnson was? Isn’t that worth it?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Her selfishness was astounding. “That’s not the point, Emily,” I said, my voice rising. “You promised to pay your half!”
A stern-looking woman | Source: Pexels
She laughed. “Oh, Rachel, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Let it go,” she said and walked away.
I stared at her, anger and frustration bubbling up inside me. Clearly, she had no intention of paying and didn’t care about the impact on me.
So I made up my mind. It was time for some payback.
A confident woman | Source: Pexels
Two days later, I looked into Emily’s schedule and discovered she had a big presentation for the upcoming quarterly meeting. This was crucial for her, and I saw an opportunity.
I began subtly mentioning to a few trusted colleagues that Emily might need ‘help’ with her presentation.
A woman giving a presentation | Source: Pexels
Word spread quickly, and soon everyone offered her ‘suggestions’ and ‘feedback.’ The result? The conflicting advice overwhelmed her, and I could see her becoming more stressed. She did manage to give the presentation, but it was a huge mess.
I wasn’t done yet, though.
A sad-looking young woman | Source: Midjourney
One day, while having lunch in the break room, I overheard Emily bragging about a meeting with a potential big client. She sat at the table, surrounded by a few colleagues, her voice full of confidence.
“This client is huge,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “If I close this deal, I’m sure to get a promotion. Mr. Johnson will be so impressed.”
Co-workers around a table | Source: Pexels
I listened quietly, my mind already plotting. After lunch, I returned to my desk and found the client’s contact information.
I crafted an anonymous email, attaching screenshots of Emily’s rude social media comments.
A person using their laptop | Source: Unsplash
“I felt it was important to inform you about some unethical behavior by Ms. Richards who is scheduled to meet with you,” I wrote in the mail to the client. “Please see the attached screenshots of her social media posts, which include rude and unprofessional comments.
Sincerely,
A Concerned Individual.”
A Gmail screen | Source: Unsplash
A few days later, Emily’s face was pale as she entered the office.
“The client canceled the meeting,” she told a colleague. “They said it was due to ‘unforeseen circumstances.’ I don’t know what went wrong!”
A stressed woman | Source: Pexels
“I’m sorry to hear that, Emily,” the colleague replied. “That must be tough.”
Emily sighed and walked away, clearly distressed. Only I knew how hard it was to contain my laugh. But even after going through so much, Emily wouldn’t mend her ways.
A laughing woman at workplace | Source: Unsplash
She started spreading rumors that she had single-handedly bought the watch for Mr. Johnson. Had she guessed I was behind her canceled meeting and failed presentation? I didn’t know. But I wouldn’t let her succeed.
So, I printed out our email exchange where she promised to pay her half and placed copies on the desks of key people in our department, including HR. The next day, whispers filled the office as people read the emails.
A woman using a printer | Source: Pexels
“Can you believe this?” one colleague said, showing the email to another. “Emily promised to pay her half for the watch.”
“Unbelievable,” the other replied. “She’s been taking all the credit.”
Emily’s popularity plummeted, and she looked more stressed than ever. I decided to take it one step further.
A stressed woman at work | Source: Pexels
Creating a fake online persona as a headhunter from a prestigious company, I sent Emily a message.
“To: [email protected]
Subject: Exciting Job Opportunity
Dear Ms. Richards,” I typed.
A person typing on their laptop | Source: Unsplash
“We have been following your impressive work and would love to discuss a potential job opportunity with you at our prestigious firm. We believe you would be a perfect fit for our team. Please let us know if you are available for an interview this Thursday at 10 AM.
Best regards,
Linda J.
Executive Recruiter, El.T.Search.”
An excited female employee | Source: Midjourney
Emily’s eyes lit up as she read the email. She ran over to the desk beside me, her excitement barely contained.
“You won’t believe this! I just got an email from a top headhunter. They want to interview me for a high-level position!”
“That’s amazing, Emily!” Stacey, my co-worker, said. “You should definitely go for it.”
A smiling woman chatting with her co-worker | Source: Freepik
Emily called in sick on the day of the fake interview, completely convinced it was real. She dressed in her best business attire and left the house early to be there on time.
The next day, she returned to the office and I overheard her talking to Stacey. “There was no interview,” she said sadly. “I showed up, and no one knew who I was.”
A sad woman | Source: Midjourney
“That’s so strange, Emily. Maybe it was some sort of mistake?”
Emily nodded slowly, still in shock. “Maybe…”
Hardly had she finished talking when Mr. Johnson approached her.
“Emily, we need to talk. Please come into my office,” he said sternly.
A serious-looking man in a suit | Source: Pexels
Emily’s confidence visibly shook. She followed him, her face pale. I stayed at my desk, straining to hear the conversation from behind my computer.
“Emily, I’ve received some concerning information,” Mr. Johnson began, his tone firm. “Can you explain why our client canceled their meeting with you?”
An older man in professional attire | Source: Midjourney
“I-I don’t know, sir. They said it was due to unforeseen circumstances.”
Mr. Johnson raised an eyebrow. “Unforeseen circumstances? Or could it be because they received an email with screenshots of your unprofessional social media comments?”
A female employee talking to her boss | Source: Midjourney
Emily gasped. “What? No, I… I didn’t think… I mean, those were private posts!” she gasped, staring at a tablet screen. Maybe Mr. Johnson was showing her the mail.
“They may have been, but they reflect poorly on you and this company,” Mr. Johnson said sharply. “And there’s more. I’ve been hearing rumors that you claimed to have bought the watch for me single-handedly. Is that true?”
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
Emily’s face turned pale. Her silence said it was true.
“Emily, this behavior is unacceptable. You’ve been manipulating situations and lying to your colleagues. This ends now. You are being demoted, effective immediately. One more misstep and you will be terminated!” Mr. Johnson declared.
A box labelled “FIRED” | Source: Pexels
Emily emerged from the office, looking defeated. That same day, in a team meeting, Mr. Johnson took off the expensive watch and held it up for everyone to see.
“This gift was meant to symbolize teamwork and appreciation,” he began, “but given the circumstances, I think it’s only fair to return it.”
A happy boss and employee | Source: Midjourney
He then walked over to me and handed me the watch. “I believe this was more of your contribution. Please, you keep it,” he said.
Emily turned beet red as everyone watched. Her scheme had backfired spectacularly, and my efforts to expose her had paid off.
And that was how I got my ultimate petty revenge on a two-faced colleague.
A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash
What would you have done?
Man on the Street Offered Me Either 2 Days’ Pay for Doing Nothing or a Full-Time Job – If Only I’d Known How It Would End
I was struggling to help Mom pay my late father’s medical debts when a stranger running a social experiment threw me a lifeline: quick cash or a job. I took the job, but after weeks of hard labor, I discovered the stranger hadn’t been entirely honest with me.
The day Jeremy approached me in that dingy coffee shop, I was running on three hours of sleep and enough caffeine to power a small city. Dad’s medical bills were still coming in, each one a fresh reminder of everything we’d lost.
An exhausted man in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney
Mom was getting worse. She wasn’t sick exactly, but that bone-deep sadness that comes from losing your other half was taking a heavy toll. I’d moved across the country to help her, but on some days, it felt like we were drowning.
I’d been applying for jobs non-stop and heard every rejection in the book, from nicely worded emails to rude, in-your-face dismissals.
I was getting desperate and even considered doing something stupid when a stranger slid into the seat across from me.
A man pulling out a chair | Source: Midjourney
“Interesting choice of drink,” the stranger said, nodding at my espresso.
I was about to tell him to pick one of Pittsburgh’s many bridges to jump off, but something stopped me. I’m not sure if it was his kind eyes or genuine smile, but I decided to find out what he wanted.
I wrapped my hands tighter around the warm cup. “Can I help you?”
“Actually, I’m hoping I can help you,” he replied.
A man in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney
“My name’s Jeremy,” he said, folding his hands on the table. “I’m running a social experiment. Here’s the deal: I can give you two days’ salary right now, no strings attached. Or…” He leaned forward slightly. “I can give you a full-time job. It’ll be tough, but the end payout—”
“The job,” I said before he could finish. “I’ll take the job.”
Jeremy’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Don’t you want to hear the amounts?”
A man arching his eyebrows | Source: Midjourney
I thought about Mom’s face when another bill arrived that morning, how her hands shook as she added it to the growing pile.
“Doesn’t matter. I need real work, not handouts.”
“Well, if you’re certain…” he reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a thin stack of paper. “Here’s your contract. Sign it, and report for work tomorrow at this address.”
He slid a slip of paper across the table with an address on it as I signed the contract.
A person signing a contract | Source: Pexels
It seemed like a standard work contract with a few extra details pertaining to the experiment. I was so relieved to finally have a job I didn’t bother reading the fine print.
Rookie mistake.
The next morning, I realized exactly what I’d signed up for. The address Jermey provided led me to a construction site for some housing project. Several homes were almost finished, but others were just foundations in the dirt.
A housing construction site | Source: Pexels
The place was filled with dust and noise and men who looked like they bench-pressed trucks for fun. The foreman, Mike, handed me a hard hat with a grunt.
“You ever done this kind of work before?” he asked.
“No, but I learn fast.”
He snorted. “We’ll see about that.”
The first week nearly broke me.
A man working on a construction site | Source: Midjourney
My muscles screamed, my hands blistered and split, and the summer heat was relentless. But every night, when I dragged myself back to Mom’s apartment, she’d look at me with such worry that I’d force a smile.
“I’m fine, Mom,” I’d say, hiding my raw palms. “Just getting stronger.”
“Your father would be so proud of you,” she’d whisper, and those words became my armor.
A woman smiling sadly | Source: Midjourney
It all seemed worth it when I met up with Jeremy again, and he gave me my first paycheck.
“This is for your first week of work,” he said. “As stated in the contract, you receive wages for your first week and the balance will be paid at the end of the month.”
“Thank you,” I said, almost in tears as I clutched the paper. It wasn’t much, but I was grateful for every penny.
By the second week, I’d fallen into a rhythm.
A determined man | Source: Midjourney
I’d wake up before dawn, gulp down coffee, and get to the site early. The work was still brutal, but I was learning and getting stronger. One of the older workers, Carl, took me under his wing, showing me how to properly handle tools and read blueprints.
“You’ve got good instincts,” he said one morning, watching me lay brick. “Reminds me of my daughter. She’s in engineering now.”
“What made her choose that?”
A man laying bricks | Source: Midjourney
Carl smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. “Watching me work all those years. Said if I could build houses, she could design them.”
Jeremy would show up periodically, clipboard in hand, watching from a distance. Sometimes, he’d join me during lunch breaks, asking questions about my life while I wolfed down sandwiches.
“Tell me about your dad,” he said one day, three weeks in.
Two men speaking over lunch | Source: Midjourney
I paused mid-bite. “He was the kind of person who’d give you his last dollar if you needed it. Cancer took him fast — six months from diagnosis to…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. “The medical bills took everything else.”
Jeremy nodded, making another note. “And yet here you are, still fighting.”
“What choice do I have?”
That evening, Mom was having one of her bad days. I found her sitting in Dad’s old chair, clutching his worn flannel shirt.
A grieving woman | Source: Midjourney
“I keep thinking I hear him in the kitchen,” she said quietly. “Making his terrible coffee.”
I sat at her feet like I used to as a kid. “Remember how he’d drink it straight from the pot sometimes?”
She laughed softly. “Said cups were just extra dishes to wash.” Her hand found my shoulder. “You’re so much like him, sweetie. Same stubborn streak.”
The work got harder as we went along.
A man working on a construction site | Source: Midjourney
I learned to lay bricks, install windows, and paint walls. The other workers slowly warmed up to me, especially after I stayed late one evening to help Mike finish a difficult section of roofing.
“You’re not half bad, kid,” he said, which from him felt like a Nobel Prize.
“Coming from you, Mike, that’s practically an award.”
He barked out a laugh. “Don’t get cocky. You’ve still got a lot to learn.”
A laughing construction worker | Source: Midjourney
But I was learning faster than anyone expected.
Each day brought new challenges: measuring twice and cutting once, ensuring level surfaces, and matching paint colors perfectly. I threw myself into every task, trying to lose myself in the work so I wouldn’t have to think about the empty chair at home or Mom’s quiet crying at night.
Then came the day everything fell apart.
A serious man | Source: Midjourney
I’d completed four weeks of backbreaking work when Jeremy showed up looking grim. He pulled out the contract, pointing to fine print I’d never noticed.
“Due to certain conditions not being met,” he began, “you won’t receive the final payment—”
“No.” The word came out like a punch. “No, you can’t do this. I worked myself half to death. I trusted you!”
“Eric—”
A man holding documents | Source: Midjourney
“I needed that money! My mom — we’re about to lose everything, and you…” My voice cracked, and I hated myself for it.
Jeremy reached into his briefcase and pulled out a small box. “Open it.”
“I don’t want your consolation prize.”
“Eric. Open the box.”
Inside was a single key, new and gleaming. I stared at it, uncomprehending.
A key in a gift box | Source: Midjourney
“This house,” Jeremy said softly, “the one you helped build? It’s yours.”
I thought I’d misheard him. “What?”
He pulled out another set of papers — a deed. I realized with growing shock that it had my name on it.
“The experiment wasn’t about the work. It was about finding someone who deserved this. Someone who would choose the harder path, who would give everything they had for the people they love.”
A smiling man holding documents | Source: Midjourney
My legs gave out, and I sat hard on the ground. “I don’t understand.”
“You built your own home, Eric. Every brick, every nail. You put your heart into it without even knowing. And now it’s yours, free and clear.”
I ran home faster than I’d ever moved in my life. Mom was in her usual spot by the window, staring at Dad’s old gardening tools.
“Mom,” I gasped out. “Mom, you’re not going to believe this.”
A happy man | Source: Midjourney
When I finished telling her, we both broke down. She pulled me close, and for the first time since Dad died, her embrace felt strong again.
A month later, we stood in our new living room. Sunlight streamed through the windows I’d installed, catching the paint I’d carefully applied to the walls. Mom was already planning where Dad’s old armchair would go and talking about planting a garden in the spring.
“He would have loved this place,” she said, touching the wall gently. “Remember how he always wanted to build his own house?”
A happy woman in a new house | Source: Midjourney
I looked around at the house I’d built with my own hands.
In every corner, I could see traces of the lessons I’d learned: Carl’s patient instruction in the perfectly aligned bricks, Mike’s demanding standards in the precise angles of each joint, and my determination in every detail I’d insisted on getting just right.
“Yeah,” I said, smiling through tears. “He really would have loved this.”
A happy man | Source: Midjourney
And somewhere, I hoped, he was watching, proud of the story we were about to begin.
Here’s another story: When Belinda jokes about skipping her SIL’s strict vegetarian Thanksgiving, her husband Jeremy’s reaction is anything but funny. His sudden anger and ultimatum for divorce leave her reeling. As tensions rise, Belinda uncovers secrets that hint at a far deeper betrayal hidden in plain sight.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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